Hosts and Heroines
by Ginevra-Dumblydore
Summary: When Sierra finds out that her world is being taken over by aliens, she is determined to fight back, and there is an organisation that can help her do that. OC but I promise it's not horrible. This story is also on my wattpad account, under the title "Solitude is Best" because at the time I couldn't upload it here.
1. Prologue

"Did you have fun at the _disco_?" Eliza asked. She was using a sarcastic tone that her sister, Sierra, didn't like.

"It's called the roller," she snapped, without answering the question. If the truth was to be told, she wasn't sure how it was. It has seemed different than usual. For one thing, no creepy boys had hit on her or any of her friends, which, frankly, had always been the norm. The people had also seemed a bit more caring about the safety of others; there were a lot less collisions and tears. She hadn't heard a swear word every ten seconds. And the ultra-violet lights must have been altered or something because when people skated under them, their eyes glowed silver. Sierra simply couldn't shake the uneasy feeling growing inside her.

"The roller," mimicked Eliza. "Whatever. I'm going to bed, if you're not keen to talk."

"I'm not keen to talk," Sierra said vaguely. Her mind was still on the strange two hours she'd just had. At least one of her friends, Kay, had seemed to share the confused feeling. She'd been able to tell by the girl's face.

The next day started off like any normal Saturday; the sisters slept in too much like the typical teenagers that they were, their father went out doing some form of exercise and their mother's yells of wanting a cup of tea fell on unconscious ears. Things changed when Sierra was roughly shaken awake. In that house, mind you, that action was practically illegal, so she could have been forgiven for letting out a string of slurred swear words and _What the hell do you want_'s.

"Get up," her father said. "Pack a bag of your favourite things, not clothes. Treasures. I'll explain later."

Suddenly wide awake, Sierra flipped around on her back and shone the light of her phone at her dad's face. His eyes didn't reflect anything and his expression didn't change. "Go. We're not coming back."

She decided to obey before addressing any of the raging questions in her head. Like a tornado, she whirled around her bedroom, selecting her most prized possessions. The Harry Potter series. Her sketchbooks and creative writing. A bunch of band merch. A Telly Tubby doll. Her skates – hey, they were expensive. Down the hall she could hear her family also tearing their rooms apart.

Dad called for her to come _now._ Grabbing her bag, music and a charger, she decided to just go with it. At the end of her driveway was a big black four wheel drive. She could see that her dog and cat were in cages, being placed into the back of the truck. Her sister and mother were already in the back and she followed cautiously. Her dad sat in the front with a big man wearing sunglasses. They sped away as soon as she shut her door.

The car smelled like vanilla air freshener. _Nice touch, mind,_ Sierra thought irritably. _Can I wake up now? _Subtly, she pinched her arm, hard, until it started bleeding. Hang on... nobody could smell in their sleep. That was how people died in fires. She looked at her family, all with set and terrified expressions. Usually, in her dreams, she struggled to see people's faces clearly. Now she could see every fine gold strand of her sister's hair, every line on her parents' faces, every line on the leather seats that she sat on. This was not a dream.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

"A tip off," the driver said. "Someone at your father's work knew something that we weren't supposed to know. Aliens – taking over our bodies. I'm taking you all to a safe place."

Two fat tears fell out of Eliza's eyes. She'd been told earlier.

"Aliens," Sierra repeated blankly. "Safe place."

"Your father was told at work."

"Didn't believe them at first," her dad said. "But it's true."

_Well, that escalated quickly. _They all seemed to be waiting for her to say, "You're nuts!" but she didn't. Sierra had never been a realist and after the roller disco last night, her entire perspective on life had already changed quite comfortably. "Then save my friends as well," she said and rattled off a couple of addresses.

"We'll try," was all that the driver said.


	2. Chapter One: The Safehouse

**Chapter One: The Safehouse**

**A/N: Sorry, I failed to do a disclaimer earlier. I'm not Stephenie Meyer. It is a bit dull at the moment I'm sorry, I promise the chapters will get more exciting and that's why I'm updating so quickly at the moment. I'm trying to rush through the first part on purpose. Bear with me and don't forget to review!**

Clearly, the architects of this place didn't go by halves. It was entirely underground, a huge network of rooms and halls. It was bigger than the biggest hospital that Eliza had ever been in. Which was pretty darn big. Also, it was clear; this place had been built years ago. From what she had gathered, these aliens had not been present that long ago. So apparently some rich bastard had just wanted an underground city. She wasn't sure, though. She suspected that insanity had something to do with it.

She clutched her grey plush rabbit as they were swiftly led to their rooms. Sure, most fifteen year olds didn't have soft toys anymore. Eliza didn't give a crap. Sierra and the escort were having a conversation ahead of her, and her parents were doing the same behind. She wondered _how_ they were managing to do that. Personally, Eliza was struggling to even walk. These corridors were all brightly lit and it hurt her eyes. She tried not to think about how far underground it was.

_Focus_, she thought. They were passing other people and their rooms as well. The rooms were all tiny, with one bunk bed. She'd always imagined that the bunk beds were the most dangerous beds out there. One earthquake could knock it down like a wine glass. _What happens when you're underground and there's an earthquake?_ she thought, with an uncomfortable twist to her stomach. New Zealand had more natural disasters than she liked to think about, being on a fault line and all. And were they even in New Zealand? She'd fallen asleep on the journey, somehow. Her ears twitched as she leaned forward to listen to Sierra's conversation. In fact, it sounded more like an argument, so Eliza didn't bother focusing on the words.

Yep, the escort's (guard, or whatever he was) accent was definitely Australian. She relaxed somewhat as they turned another corner to their new bedrooms. The guy Sierra was talking to turned to their parents.

"Your daughter wants to help with rescuing people," he said bluntly.

Eliza heard her parents both make noises of protest. Her sister was blushing under the large amount of hair that covered her face.

"She's only seventeen," their mum said, like that settled it.

"Yeah, and when I'm trained properly, I'll be eighteen," snapped Sierra.

Their parents exchanged a _look._ Before they could say an outright no, the guard said, "This sort of thing is encouraged around here. The invasion began a year ago without us knowing. You're all lucky to be alive."

"Then why are people going out there and wasting that_ luck?_" their mother demanded.

"Mum!" Sierra said indignantly. "That's not _waste!_"

"Here at the shelter," the guard said loudly, shooting a glance at Sierra. "We are taking able men and women and turning them into heroes."

Sierra shot an acidic glare at her parents. "I'm doing it," she said, before storming into her and her sister's room. Eliza followed suit and shut the door.

"No bathroom," she observed.

"We share with the people in this hallway," her sister muttered. "And there's a giant food hall to share with everyone."

Eliza tested the beds to see which was more comfortable. She decided that the bottom was better, so she dumped her bag there, sat, and looked back up at her sister. "Where's Jones and Winky?"

"There's an animal section. They're not here yet – we're somewhere in Australia. They need to be quarantined and stuff."

"What?" Eliza was extremely confused. "Do you remember a plane ride or is it just me forgetting things?"

"Drugs," answered the brunette bluntly. "So if we get caught they don't find out _where_ we are."

"How do you know that?"

"'Liza." She laughed. "That guy would've told me his deepest secrets, as long as I asked the _right way._"

In spite of the fact that all she wanted to do was train for the big wide world with her sister, Eliza was still legally obliged to be attending school, as she was under sixteen. The very next day, when she was told this, by one of the higher-ups, no less (she knew who the professionals were), she promptly slammed her hand down on the man's desk in frustration.

"There AREN'T any laws anymore!" she yelled. "Well, there are, but aren't WE the OUTlaws?"

"Just because... _this_ has happened, does not mean that our original laws do not apply in the safehouse." Mr Simmons, a man of the age of forty or something, seemed unfazed by Eliza's outburst. "Either way, if you want to be out there saving people, you can't even go until you're eighteen."

Her lip curled back. "What if I just ran away?"

"You could try," he said, sipping his coffee calmly. "I can't guarantee that you'd even make it to the nearest city, though. And would you even make it _in _the nearest city? And when you get caught, your thoughts will betray us all."

"How do you do that, anyway?" asked Eliza, sidetracked.

Simmons raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Get soldiers out in disguise," she added.

"Contact lenses," he said simply, and then eyed her shirt. "I believe you have school, now."

"Apparently," muttered Eliza. "I wouldn't have if you were a bit nicer."

The man looked like he either wanted to roll his eyes or slap her. "Go."

Eliza shoved her chair back and flounced out of the room, flipping back her curtain of blonde hair as she did so. She resented the school clothes that she was required to wear 24/7: an unflattering grey polo shirt and the same olive three quarter pants that literally every single person was given, apart from the people in charge. They wore their slick black suits, but apart from them, the colour of the shirt symbolised the status in this place. To avoid confusion, there were signs at every corner.

RED: SOLDIERS IN TRAINING

RED, WHITE COLLAR: RETURNED SOLDIERS AND GUARDS

YELLOW: COOKS AND CLEANERS

GREEN: DOCTORS AND NURSES

BLUE: SCIENTISTS, ENGINEERS ETC

GREY: STUDENTS

ORANGE: MANUAL LABOURERS

Eliza's mum was a cook and she hated it. Her father was a blue-shirt, a "nerd" as most people called them.

She pushed through the corridors to her class, a map in one hand. It had been an hour since school had started for the day, so of course she was going to be in trouble. She arrived just before the next teacher did, sliding into a spare seat at the back of the class. One boy winked at her. She flashed him a resentful look while the teacher started writing algebraic expressions on the board.


	3. Chapter Two: I can save the world

Sierra had six months until she was eighteen. Half a year to be trained like a proper soldier. This was the future – there would be no more legitimate battlefields. She was required to be as strong and fit as possible. Every afternoon, the people who were once good enough (but too old now to have a chance in a one on one fight with what was called a Seeker) screamed instructions at her. To run faster, to do another twenty push-ups, lift more weights, stay in that horrible position for five more minutes. They literally worked her until she fainted, or her time was up, whichever came first. The goal of this part of training was to make her _standard fit._

The training was done in the afternoons because afterwards she was too exhausted to even have dinner most nights. In the mornings, she ate an enormous breakfast that was bursting with vegetarian proteins. She studied the behaviours and history of these aliens, learned to treat others with innocent respect and kindness, practised avoiding cuss words and got into the habit of talking about "past lives" on other planets. After one exhausting week in this place, she heard from her two friends. They had both been taken to safehouses in different continents. One was in France, the other in the USA. She wasn't sure whether they were training like her or not, but she was happy that she was safe.

After the first part of training, Sierra felt a confidence within herself regarding her physical ability that she had never had before. The second part was focusing on the trainee's abilities to endure extreme situations. They had already spent forty eight hours in the _cold room_, with one other person for body warmth, a single can of beans, a water canteen and a first aid kit. They'd been indoor rock climbing, going without harnesses on high ropes courses and learned about thousands of edible plants and insects.

Today, they were presented with a deep swimming pool. Sierra glanced at her training buddy, Caitlin. The pair had arrived at around the same time, and their birthdays were only two days apart. Caitlin was a dark girl with curly hair and soft curves that wouldn't go away no matter how much time she spent in the gym.

"Impressive," she quipped. "An underground pool."

"Why is the ceiling so high?" Sierra wondered aloud, and Caitlin pointed at a ten metre diving board calmly. "What the hell?" she continued. "So they spend all their money on this ridiculous setup while I'm still here wearing crappy canvas shoes that make me look like I have clown's feet?"

Her friend had a weird look on her face. "You do know there's no money anymore, right?"

Their trainer, Coach Stewart, arrived at that moment. There were about thirty people in the pool room and they all gathered around the Coach without needing to say anything.

"I want you all to jump in the pool and stay afloat as long as possible," he said simply.

"In THIS?"

"Yes, Rosser, in that," Coach rolled his eyes. "You're not going to be able to change into bathers in a survival situation before you jump into the sea or something, are you? Do it."

Josh Rosser went red and dived in first. The others followed reluctantly while Coach sat back on a chair with some biography about a sportsman who was probably dead now, occasionally yelling something at the swimmers. Sierra and Caitlin were a bit preoccupied trying not to be the first to sink to continue their conversation.

Shuddering at the feeling of wet socks, Sierra decided while she flailed about that she was going to be taking her shoes off before jumping into any body of water. _Screw the Seekers,_ she thought angrily. _It's ridiculously hard to tread water in these freaking clothes._

After half an hour, Coach called them all out for a break. "Enjoy it – you're in next time for twice as long."

His comment was met with a bunch of exhausted groans. Sierra turned to Caitlin. "What did you mean by 'there's no money anymore'?"

"By that." She smiled at the confused look on Sierra's face before elaborating. "Worldwide, you don't need to pay for shit anymore. Law passed three days ago."

"Well, I've still been wearing these damn clothes for the past three days, and it seriously needs to change."

After a week or so of water training, including several horrific jumps off that diving board, they moved on to combat training. Firstly, they learned how to tackle and fight without weapons, and to be frank, Caitlin and Sierra were shit. Neither of them could even throw a decent punch. However, eventually they were able to take down even some of the people who had the advantage of superior size and strength, thanks to a few handy tricks that the girls learned. Sierra was quite slim, so she could worm out of a crushing hold by using dirty tactics like groin-hitting, whacking the stomach and pulling out hair. Besides, most souls were useless at fighting, since they were all about non-violence and peace and love and hugging trees.

Weapons' training was also difficult, but it was a lot of fun. Sierra was delighted when Coach said that anything could be a weapon, having heard it being said on crime shows and in books. Of course, at first they were trained with _real _weapons, starting off with knives. There were blades as short as a matchstick and others as long as your arm. Caitlin liked the long ones because she felt like a medieval soldier, but Sierra preferred the daggers. They practised pulling the blades out of belts, and she was taught how to pull out two without accidentally cutting her own arms off, which was convenient. Her enthusiasm helped her pick up the skills quickly.

After knives, they learned how to use guns. They were told that they should avoid using them most of the time because the noise would draw a lot of attention, which was fair enough. Plus, they didn't want to _kill _the souls; they just wanted to be able to keep the Seekers away, so they spent more time practising with tranquilising guns and less on firearms.

They didn't really need to spend much time working with objects that could become weapons because a) there were too many options, b) they'd all probably be used in similar ways – bashing heads in, etc., and c) they were expected to have knives and guns on them at all times anyway. Then they had lessons on how to drive a car dangerously without killing themselves.

After they'd learned all that they could about the aliens in theory, they had to set up the lives that they were going to pretend to have. It was helpful to use their own interests, so that they knew what they were talking about, so Sierra chose to be an Artist. She painted a couple of peaceful looking pictures of daisies and the like to back herself up. Then, everybody went into the hospital to be given a scar to look like they had the worms inside them. They were fitted for their costumes; the fashion that souls preferred. They wore reasonably simple clothes, which were a sort of classy vintage style. Sierra missed her skinny jeans and big T-shirts.

Soon enough Christmas came, and then Caitlin's and Sierra's birthdays, which came just before New Year's Eve. All three occasions were sad affairs. Sierra's 18th literally ended in tears thanks to her mother, as they planned to leave the very next day.

Eliza didn't let her mother come to see Sierra and Caitlin off. She knew that the woman would probably cry and yank her now adult daughter back. Now that Sierra was a lot stronger than any of them, Mum's efforts would be futile, which would probably make things worse.

So it was only Eliza and her father there to say goodbye. That was a lot more than some of the five others leaving that way; some had come here alone and were also leaving that way. Of course, there was that one lucky bitch that had about ten people tearfully hugging her and wishing her luck. After the farewells, the six of them then all stood in a sombre line while they had their pictures taken and were given a bag each. No longer were they wearing their hideous uniforms. Sierra was wearing a purple frock and she'd lifted the skirt to show her sister the weapons that she had strapped to her toned thighs.

Now they were given their convincing contact lenses. They were coloured differently to their natural eye colours so that the people that they knew could recognise whether they were still themselves or not. That is, if they ever met again. Sierra crossed her now silver and black eyes at Eliza one last time before she was handed a tonic to knock her out so that they wouldn't see the location of this place while they were taken outside by the people who'd come straight back.

"See ya on the other side," someone said to his fellows. "Whoever I'm teamed up with a lucky person."

Eliza started to cry when her sister fell back into the arms of a waiting guard. She recognised the guy: he was the one who'd taken them to their rooms the first day. He'd been around occasionally since then and now here he was, gently lifting Sierra and carrying her away to wherever they took them. She didn't look like a soldier going to war. She resembled something closer to any damsel in distress from any superhero movie, there with her skirts bunched up and her hair falling back in a tangled mess.


	4. Chapter Three: How to Keep Your Cool

She woke up in a daze, momentarily forgetting who and where she was. Someone had left her in the front seat of an inconspicuous car, but she knew that it would have at _least _a V8 engine. It was sitting under a bunch of gum trees. Caitlin hadn't been outside in seven months; for a moment she just sat there enjoying the sunshine, rolling down the window a bit to smell the sweet leaves.

She pulled her seat forwards, sitting up as she did so. To her left, open mouthed and still fast asleep, was Sierra. Well, it was convenient that the driver was the one that was actually conscious. Before she pulled the car away, however, Caitlin checked their supplies. Their bags weren't very big, and they only contained an extra set of clothes. More dresses – ugh. The only items of clothing that could conceal weapons, apparently. Caitlin was surprised that the males in their little group weren't in the same attire. She snickered at the idea of Josh Rosser stuffing a pistol down the front of his trousers. The boot had a tent, sleeping bags, water and some canned food, but with a bit of luck they'd reach a city before it got dark and they could fool their way into a hotel.

When she got back into the front seat, Sierra woke up with a start. "Knew I'd be stuck with you," she said in a slurred voice. "Where are we? It's freaking boiling."

Caitlin started the engine, wound her way out of the patch of trees and pulled out onto the open road. "Northern Territory, I'd say."

After two hours of listening to Sierra's horrible metal music ("Guess what I snuck out," she'd said), they reached a city. It was getting dark, but as far as knew it was New Year's Eve still, so most of the aliens would probably be out celebrating. It was unlikely that there would be any humans about to rescue on this occasion. The place was not pretty like Sierra's old home; it looked like a mining town or something like it, with its three smokestacks and buildings that were there for use instead of show.

"Where are we?" Sierra wondered aloud.

"Mount Isa," replied Caitlin shortly.

After a short time of winding through the streets, they conveniently found a dull looking two story building with the words "ISA HOTEL" placed in block lettering for all to see. Before getting out of the now parked car, the girls took a few deep breaths. In their training, they knew that by calming themselves before any alien interaction their acting would be more believable.

Sierra, who was better at disguising her bitterness towards the aliens, was the one that approached the woman behind the counter. "May we please have a room?"

The soul looked up with those eyes, made even brighter because they'd already been a shocking blue. "Of course," she said. Her name-tag read _Melody_. Caitlin couldn't tell whether this was her host's name or a name picked up from that bat planet that she'd read about. She was smiling, oblivious to the fact that she was facing two people who wanted nothing more than the death of her entire race. "Not the partying type?" she guessed.

"No," said Sierra with a tight smile, while Caitlin jerkily took the key. "How about you?"

Melody grinned. "My shift finishes in ten minutes. I'm meeting a friend from the Singing Planet at the park with the fireworks."

"That's good."

"You could join us if you like," continued the alien. "We're not the biggest partiers either."

"No, thank you," said Caitlin sharply, tugging at Sierra's wrist. Seriously, the woman at the desk wouldn't stop smiling and she was finding it creepy.

"That's all right," Melody said. "Well, I might see you tomorrow."

Sierra flashed her one last smile before following Caitlin up to the hotel room. It had two single beds side by side. They locked the door and shut all the curtains before taking out their contact lenses.

"She reminded me of an old man who invited me into his car a few years ago," Sierra commented, making a face.

Caitlin laughed. "I'd take the car before the worms."

"At least we could score a free ride," Sierra agreed. "And if this man had turned out to be a genuinely nice guy, I could've had a smooth ride to school instead of a stinky bus. Alas, I politely declined."

"You're so annoying when you talk like that."

"You're so annoying when you talk in general."

The banter had to end before they went out the next day. They decided that the best way to hear about humans was to stalk every Seeker in the city, or at least have a conversation with them all. The girls spent the week striking conversations with any white-suit they came across. After a short time each day, Sierra would find the heat unbearable and leave Caitlin to do the talking. In spite of this, each conversation generally went the same way:

"Hello, Seeker."

"Well, good morning. Happy New Year."

"Thank you. My name is A Thousand Eyes."

Both girls would suddenly smile at the sudden reference to _The Simpsons._

"A See Weed? Wonderful. I've always wanted to go there."

"Well, it sure is a nice place. I was just wondering, is Seeking an enjoyable profession? It seems very scary, with all the humans about still and all."

"It's very exciting. Are you interested in becoming one?"

"Maybe." Cue teasing smile. "Has there been much human activity lately?"

"No, ma'am. And I promise that if there is, we'll sort it out."

"Thank you, Seeker."

And then both girls would turn away in disgust. It took them a week to comb through Mount Isa's Seekers. None of them confirmed any _human activity_. Back on the open road, Caitlin was driving. She was better than Sierra at this, especially since half the time Sierra would get excited about a good song that had come on and start playing air guitar, yelling her favourite lyrics in a deliberately tone deaf voice.

"You're such a weirdo!" Caitlin moaned.

"Hey now, shut up, I haven't heard this song in six months!"

While they were training, they hadn't been allowed to do anything that didn't involve preparing for _outside_, and that included listening to music.

A car pulled out in front of them at that moment, swerving around the corner dangerously. Sierra said, "WHAT THE F -" while Caitlin murmured, "Humans." She slammed her foot down on the accelerator, flattening Sierra against the back of her seat. Caitlin leaned forward into the steering wheel, faintly registering that behind them, red dust was rising up in a cloud where the car had skidded. Ahead of them, it appeared that the driver had realised that he or she was being chased. The never-changing expanse of desert on either side of them flashed past in a blur.

"What if it isn't humans?" Sierra asked.

"Souls don't speed."

"What if we can't catch up?"

"They'll stop before we do. Our tank is full and they were going fast for longer than us."

Sierra gave up asking questions. Caitlin was in her element. She'd been top of the class at dangerous driving, and it turned out that she was correct about the car ahead of them. It was no match for the one that the safehouse had provided; the dingy vehicle sputtered to a stop while Caitlin pulled up beside it smoothly.

"Please don't commit suicide before we talk to you," she whispered as Sierra jumped out her door, popping out her black contacts at the same time. She knocked flirtatiously on the window of the driver's seat. Reluctantly, the guy rolled it down. He was wearing dark sunglasses.

"Nice shades," she commented, peering around the guy to see if there was anyone else in the vehicle, but he was alone. She reached out and whipped the glasses off his face before he could do anything.

The boy was stubbornly glaring at his hands that remained clenched around the steering wheel. He had a tangle of blonde hair that had once been fashionably shaved at the sides, making him look like a member of One Direction. In her head, Sierra named him Justin Bieber. His collar was turned up slightly to hide his neck. She couldn't tell what colour his eyes were at this angle, but she couldn't help noticing that he had impressive cheekbones. Again, she reached down and flipped his collar, baring his scar free neck.

"Well, now," she said. Behind her, Caitlin tooted the horn of the car. "Want a ride."

"You're giving me a choice?" Justin growled doubtfully.

"Uh, yeah. Or you could bake out here. It's up to you." The Australian sun really was nasty, and Sierra was already sweating. She made a mental note to pick up some sunblock in the next town they went to.

"I'd rather die than become a worm like you, _Seeker_." There was so much hatred in JB's voice that Sierra didn't know whether to flinch or laugh.

"Look at me," she told him, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face her. His eyes were the colour of the cloudless sky above them "Do I look like a Seeker to you?"

With a pop, Justin's mouth fell open. "I guess not."

"Mmm. Get your stuff and come with us." She dropped her voice to a dangerous growl. "Or die."


	5. Chapter Four: The More the Merrier

"Caitie," sang Sierra, tapping on the driver's seat window. She had a wicked look in those disconcerting black eyes. "I want to drive."

"Why?" Caitlin complained, before catching sight of the dude awkwardly standing behind her friend. _Shit, he's attractive_, she thought immediately. She huffed out a sigh that sounded annoyed. "Alright, then."

"Sort out sweet Justin, will you?" Sierra slid behind the wheel, ignoring the confused look the guy gave her.

Caitlin hopped into the back seat and beckoned for this _Justin_ to follow her. Sierra started driving and Caitlin started digging through her bag. She pulled out a spare pair of eye contacts that she had that were light brown and handed them over.

"Here," she said. "Put these in and you'll look like one of them. I'm Caitlin."

He did as she said. The brown still made him look totally hot. "My name's Ryan." Where did the Justin come from? "How'd you get these?"

Leaning back, Caitlin grinned. "From a very special place, far far away."

"Don't be a twat," Sierra interjected.

The girls briefly explained the safehouse. They also told him that they were probably going to take him there, unless he was over eighteen, reasonably fit, and really, _really _didn't want to go.

"I'm nineteen," he said. "And I used to be pretty into AFL... if that counts."

"No," Sierra said immediately. "Australian football is for wimps."

"Shut up, Sierra," snapped Caitlin. Then, turning to Ryan, she said, "She's a New Zealander."

Ryan found that he quite liked the two girls. Genuinely. Sierra never failed to make him laugh with her slightly mad personality and dry, dry jokes. Even when the jokes weren't funny, he still laughed at her accent with its _thuck vulls_ and long Rs. She was especially amusing when Caitlin and she were bouncing insults off each other.

At first, Caitlin had scared him. Her contact lenses were bright green and looked very unusual against her brown skin. Once they checked into a hotel, however, she took them out and behind them her natural eye colour was a deep chocolate that seemed to warm Ryan's soul. She was similar to Sierra with her sense of humour and kindness. What set them apart from each other was that Caitlin was completely focused, all the time. She only relaxed when they were behind a locked door and even then she frequently checked her weapons. When he said something to her about Sierra's lack of focus, she said wisely, "Sierra is almost always in her own world, because she likes it there. Here she is actually pretty level headed and cautious, the way you would be around a bully." Ryan learned from her within five days more than he'd ever learned from his father in sixteen years. She taught him to remain calm all the time, but to be careful with where he put his trust, among many other things. On a lighter level, he learned from her that he could, in fact blush. He wanted to please her, and when she smiled he could definitely feel his cheeks burning.

Ryan looked at her now. Caitlin was moving around the tiny motel unit kitchen, whipping up some fantastic smelling dinner for the three of them. It was his sixth night with the girls. He's quickly learned that Caitlin was fantastic at cooking.

Sierra sauntered into the room with wet hair and mascara smudges under her eyes. "What's cookin', good lookin'?" she asked the room at large, flopping onto the couch beside Ryan. To him, it sounded like she said "cookun" and "lookun" but he was getting used to her accent.

"Burgers," Caitlin answered. "And yes, I made a veggie patty first."

"Oh Caitie. Will you marry me? So that I can have your food forever?"

"Not if I get there first," Ryan interjected, furiously telling his face to _not turn red._

Sierra's eyebrows shot up and a grin started to spread across her face. "Well, now. I must say that I envy your advantage of the fact that Caitlin is heterosexual."

"Thank you, thank you."

Sierra turned the television on. "Let's watch the _Neighbours _of the future. You know, I'd imagined that soap operas couldn't get any more shit, but then I guess we got abducted by aliens."

"Food!" Caitlin called.

Ryan got slapped in the face by Sierra's long and still wet hair when they chased each other the short distance to the kitchen.

The way Justin had blushed the night before had settled it for Sierra. She could tell that he and Caitlin were _so_ into each other. They'd been exchanging small smiles and subtle flirtatious comments for _days._ Plus, Caitlin had been putting more effort into her appearance, asking Sierra to help her with her eyeliner in the mornings.

_Come on_. It was so obvious.

"... Sierra, what do you think?"

She blinked. "About what?"

"Should we take Ryan to the safehouse or not?" Caitlin rolled her eyes.

Sierra glanced at the bathroom door. When Justin got out of the shower, they'd be leaving the town that they were in. Birdsville, she was pretty sure. She couldn't wait to get further south to the cooler weather and greener landscapes. "Uh..."

"You weren't listening at all, were you?" Caitlin, thankfully, said it with affection, not annoyance.

"No," admitted Sierra. "Sorry. But I think we should ask _him._"

"I agree, but..." Caitlin bit her lip.

"But what?"

"I want him to stay," she confessed. "And what if he doesn't want to? And if he does, we'll have to give him a cut in the neck. He can't walk around wearing scarves forever. It's _hot_ here."

Sierra pursed her lips. "Well, I think he wants to stay too. It wouldn't be a problem, would it? It wouldn't _hurt _him or anything. And I bet all the medicines and stuff are available pretty much everywhere, so we could restock the first aid kit anytime."

She did notice that Caitlin's cheeks were a bit red, so out of politeness, Sierra looked down at the newspaper she'd been pretending to read.

"Yes, but SiSi," Caitlin hesitated. "I don't feel good at the idea of really_ doing _it."

This was the first sign of weakness that Caitlin had ever shown. Surprised, Sierra looked up at her. She was definitely blushing. _Ding_, she so liked Ryan – uh, Justin – back.

"It's okay, Caitie. If he says yes, I can do it. I just won't have breakfast that morning."

When Justin got out of the shower, Sierra saw all the signs again.

_I really have to tell them_, she told herself. _Since they're not admitting it anytime soon._

And it wasn't like she didn't know the _signs_. She'd had a bit of an on-off thing with that guard till her birthday, when they decided to ditch it since she was going to leave and possibly never come back. Max, his name was. Neither of them had really _liked_ each other. Sierra was perfectly aware that Max was a horny bugger who thought he was a lot cooler than he actually was. And as she had walked in on him with two other girls before, she was pretty sure he wasn't that fond of her either.

But the Biebs and Caitlin were different. It was clear that they both thought that their feelings were one-sided. That they weren't _good enough_ for each other or something. Right now Caitlin was saying something in the front seat, carefully looking out the windscreen while she did it. Since she wasn't watching _him, _Justin was freely ogling at her. Sierra had never seen a pretty-boy doing anything other than pouting in front of a camera, so this was definitely a sight. She pulled out her sketchbook and drew the expression quickly.

Before anyone noticed, she asked, "Where are we going?" without bothering to check if Caitlin was finished talking.

"That happens to be exactly what we were talking about," Caitlin said calmly. Justin closed his mouth and turned around to grin at Sierra. She poked her tongue out at him before replying.

"And what did you decide?"

"Nullarbor Plain." A thin line appeared between Caitlin's eyebrows. "As you should know, there's a lot of human activity on Eyre Highway."

"Cool." Sierra felt that the conversation was edging to the subject of what-to-do-with-Ryan. As she wanted to approach the topic with the pair of them facing her, Sierra added, "Could we park somewhere for lunch? I want something really fattening."

"Sure. But don't come crying to me when you have to do an extra half hour of exercises tonight." They always did an assigned workout every night to keep up their fitness.

Under the shade of a gum tree twenty minutes later, Sierra felt that having a picnic lunch was a very good idea. Secretly, she'd been a little apprehensive about doing this in this part of Australia because it was _bloody hot_, but this was the only thing to do that she could think of. There was a pleasant breeze, however, so it was quite good, especially since they were the only ones occupying a picnic table. She gobbled her cup full of chips quickly before attacking them while they were occupied with their pies.

"So, Justin. Caitlin and I were discussing you this morning." She stopped only to smile at them pleasantly. Caitlin's green eyes looked more acidic than ever. Sierra wasn't sure if she was irritated because of the direction her speech was headed or if it was just because she kept calling Ryan Justin. "We are unsure what to do with you. To keep or not to keep? And then I had a brilliant idea: why don't we ask _you_?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, clearly holding back laughter.

"It's simple, really. Do you or do you not want to stay with us? If you don't want to, we can organise someone to take you back to the safehouse."

Caitlin choked on her iced tea while Justin hesitated. "Well, it's up to you guys, really –"

"Did I not just say that we've already established the fact that _you'd_ be the one deciding whether to stay or go?" Sierra interrupted, enjoying herself.

"Well, what do you guys want?"

Sierra shrugged. "I don't care either way."

"Caitlin?" Justin said her name like a caress.

She forced an easy looking smile. "Well, you are great to be around. Sure, why not?"

"I'll stay then," he said calmly. "But... you guys will have to teach me a few moves."

"Sure," laughed Caitlin.


	6. Chapter Five: Match Maker

The chemistry of the moment was what brought Sierra's fist down on the surface of the picnic bench. The almost-completely-melted ice cubes in the bottom of her glass rattled about. Justin and Caitlin broke away from each other's gaze (it seemed to take a lot of effort) and gave her a curious look.

"Admit it!" she told them firmly, but not too loudly, as the roadside cafe was only ten meters away. "You're both completely and utterly into each other!"

The pair blushed, not deliberately avoiding looking at anyone.

"Look at you! Like two beetroots in a pod."

"That doesn't make any sense," Caitlin managed to say.

"Neither does you two, not dating! Just do it. You're both killing me."

Bewildered, neither of them said anything. Even Caitlin hadn't expected Sierra to be so... _intuitive_. The drive to the next town was filled with an awkward silence that was only broken by Sierra's pumping "My turn to drive" playlist. Justin and Caitlin almost needed to put jerseys (of course, they called them _jumpers_) when she drove, as she had the air conditioning up so high.

They stopped in another town that nobody could remember the name of. Their motel had two bedrooms. One had two single beds in it and the other had a double. Justin usually took the double bed, but this time Sierra got there first, forcing him and Caitlin to share a room.

The next morning, when Sierra walked into their room, she found that Caitlin and Ryan's hands were still touching on the floor.

After a week of teasing from Sierra, training from the pair of them and one nerve racking "potentially fatal neck surgery" as Sierra, his "high class doctor" called it, Ryan helped them save their first humans.

They were somewhere in New South Wales now; in the greener parts of Australia. The Nullarbor idea was still going to happen, but Caitlin and Sierra couldn't resist heading straight to where they'd be able to see real trees, evergreens, the ones people used for logging. It happened when they were going on a walk together through the bush one afternoon. There was even a little stall that handed out free (well, everything was free, but still) water backpacks for the occasional passerby.

To make a long story short, the three friends went off the path by accident and came across a little stream ("Water?" Sierra gasped in shock. "In Australia?") that was well hidden by rocks and bushes. Ryan found a small cave, too. Inside it were two sleeping bags and evidence of recently eaten canned food. He looked up at the girls, who had followed him inside and were now staring at him, open-mouthed.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.

Sierra, for once, was speechless. She knelt down and picked up what looked like a pair of socks and passed them to Caitlin, who said, "Still a bit wet from sweat."

Ryan met her excited gaze. "I say we come back after dark."

"Why then?" Sierra asked.

"Well, obviously they've cleared out for the day. And when the light's gone, they'll come back to sleep. Their stuff's here."

"Right. I knew that."

They left in a hurry, not bothering to finish the walk, to go shopping for inconspicuous black clothes. Caitlin suggested that they get some dark face paint for Sierra and Justin's pale skin, so they went back to the motel with some very interesting costumes.

"I was only kidding," Caitlin muttered while the others smeared the stuff on their faces while she drove them back to the forest.

All three of them were wearing tight black long-sleeved shirts, slick vinyl pants and boots that were light to use but not in colour. Justin wore a beanie as well, as his hair was quite light. They had their contacts with them; not that anyone could think of think of a very convincing story to tell any Seekers that could potentially show up. Everyone doubted that they would, of course. When they arrived, there were no cars or lights.

Sierra got out first, slipping her tight backpack on her back. Carefully she tucked an escaping lock of light brown hair back behind her ear. She'd done it up in a bun to make it look darker; hair often was lighter at the ends and hers was no exception. She was grateful that Australian nights weren't as unbearable as the daytime. It was quite possible that if she wore this outfit at noon, she'd get hyperthermia.

"Are we gonna use torches or nah?" she murmured to her fellows when they got out.

Caitlin had one glowing contact in, and it swooped around eerily as her eyes surveyed the area. "Yes. Might as well."

Gratefully the others turned on their head lamps and set off into the trees, going at a slower pace than that had earlier that day. It took a long time of going back and forth to even find where they'd gone off course before. Soon enough, after nearly half an hour of scrabbling slowly over rocks, they found the stream. Down there, it was lighter thanks to the full moon and stars. Everyone but Justin turned off their headlamps.

Before they even got to the cave, the trio heard a noise. A rustling of some sort, coming from a nearby bush. They stopped all at once. Sierra nearly collided with Justin's back.

"Snake?" she whispered nervously, unconsciously resting one hand on the strap of her bag full of medicine and the other on her thigh, where a long knife and a pistol were strapped tightly.

Justin took a step closer, so that his light was brighter on the bush. By doing this, the cave came into sight in the distance, as did the person leaping out of the little shrub, hands outstretched for Ryan's throat.


	7. Chapter Six: Jumbo and Junior

Nobody could stop the pair from falling to the ground together. Caitlin allowed herself a shocked gasp before bending to help Sierra, who was already shamelessly sliding between the fighting boys, replacing Ryan with herself. To an outsider, Caitlin thought, the scene would've looked like love-making, but with knives instead of kisses. Well, Sierra wasn't using her knife – just her long fingernails, and the person was unarmed. She had succeeded in pushing the man (who was significantly larger than Sierra in size) off Ryan, who stood up and aimed a kick at the guy, but Caitlin caught his arm.

"You could hit her," she said. It was true; the two on the ground were almost a blur of arms and legs and Sierra's tangle of hair that had come out of her tight bun. It wasn't clear who was superior. Sierra was a lot better at fighting, but she was also smaller. "Let's go to the cave. There were two sleeping bags, remember?" When he hesitated, she squeezed his wrist. "She's fine, I promise."

He gulped and followed her down the stream.

Her ribs were on fire. She'd never been in this much pain; at least one was broken. She couldn't move. Water from the stream was seeping into her messy hair. The guy had stumbled back and was now on his feet a meter or two away, catching his breath. He was human, alright. He'd called her a hundred different names that sounded like "worm" or "centipede," so obviously he had only seen the one eye with the contact.

Somehow, Sierra had a feeling that he was preparing himself to kill her. This knowledge motivated her to heave herself to her feet (good lord that hurt) and stagger towards the man, switching on her lamp with bloody fingers and pulling it off her head. He squinted in the light that illuminated the auburn stubble, tightly would curls and tough features. He was developing a black eye from where she had punched him. Before he could move, she brushed her fringe out of her human eye and shone the light at her own face.

"Don't even bother," she spat, and immediately regretted speaking when her chest roared in protest, but it was necessary to say _something_. "I'm human and you just beat me up."

After a moment of stunned silence, the man chuckled. "Well, you fought back. Why is –"

"You ever heard of eye contacts?" Sierra was in no mood for humour. "How many of you are there?"

"My best mate's asleep," he said. "Are your friends gonna attack him too?"

"Sit down." She only said it because she needed to do so herself, but thankfully the guy obeyed. Before she spoke, she took off her backpack and pulled out a jar of Heal. She started smearing it on her injuries, not caring whether or not this man looked away when she pulled up her shirt to fix her ribs. Without No Pain, the healing process burned like a bitch. Sierra quickly put some of the stuff on her tongue before she said, "Provided that Caitlin and Ryan continue to be their charming selves, your friend has nothing to worry about. Unless he is like you, and attacks people without explanation."

If it were Caitlin sitting there, she wouldn't have bothered saying more than two words of reassurance. The man would have been bombarded with questions about how he'd gotten there, why he was hiding close to the enemy, what his name was, how old he was, what his grandmother's first pet was, but Sierra didn't care about that sort of thing ninety percent of the time. By hearing a story meant telling one in return and for the past three weeks, anything other than the present was a touchy subject with her.

"So?" she asked. "Is your friend likely to strangle my friends or not?"

"Probably not. You'd have been luckier if you came when he was on guard duty."

"Yippee," Sierra said sarcastically.

The man opened his mouth to answer, and then his nose started to ooze blood. Viciously, she tossed him the jar of Heal but not the No Pain, because he'd broken her bloody ribs. They sat there in a surly silence until Caitlin and Justin came back, carrying some of the stuff from the cave. Between them was a scrawny figure and they seemed to be talking and laughing with him, from what Sierra could make out in the moonlight. Laughing?

"Dibs not driving," Sierra said immediately, taking the hand that Caitlin offered to help her stand up.

"Are you okay?" her friend asked, not missing Sierra's wince.

"Broke something," she muttered.

"Are you able to walk?"

Sierra forced a smile. "Is this an offer to carry me?"

"I'm not carrying her," Justin said.

Meanwhile, the new humans were talking in hushed voices. It seemed that the one who'd fought with Justin and Sierra was reluctant to go anywhere with them.

"We'll only be with them temporarily," the other one pleaded. "Then we'll be at a safe place."

The big one eventually agreed. Nobody spoke on the way back to the car. Once everybody was inside, with the boys squished together uncomfortably in the back, Caitlin pounced on Sierra with a quiet but acidic tone.

"What happened? Why didn't he want to come with us?"

Gingerly, Sierra pressed her hand to where the Heal was doing its work and felt a faint tingling. She couldn't think of just one short answer, so she allowed herself to let out a string of babble. "I don't know. Maybe because I'm pissed that he _broke my rib -_"

"Your rub?" Ryan interrupted. He was leaning forwards to listen properly.

"Shut up, Ryan. Anyway, it was either that, or he's embarrassed to have been beaten up by a girl. Or he's just naturally a prick. Or I just have that effect on people. Ask him."

Caitlin sighed. "Did you tell him anything?"

"Not really, no."

"Ryan." Caitlin glanced up in the rear view mirror at her boyfriend. "You tell him, please, while Sierra cleans herself up."

"I don't need to clean myself! It's _dark_."

Someone in the backseat choked back a laugh while Sierra wiped the blood, dirt and paint off her skin. Luckily her dark clothes made it hard to see the rest of the grime. Ryan and the big dude did the same, but Caitlin and the skinny one were pretty clean anyway and there was no need.

Sierra decided to name the newcomers Jumbo and Junior. Back at the motel, after everybody was showered, they were all too tired to make further conversation than sorting out sleeping arrangements.

If she were in a better mood, Sierra would have announced that she felt awkward in that situation. It was too much of a hassle to move Caitlin and Ryan out of their room, plus Sierra could sense that the pair was nervous to share a bed now that they were _dating_. So she had to either share with Jumbo or Junior. When she opened her mouth to suggest that they fight for it like real men, all that came out was a yawn. If she was in her fully conscious mind, she would have chosen who herself, and that who would probably have been Junior; simply because he didn't seem to want to snap her neck in the dark. Fortunately, Caitlin seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Alright, Ben, just go," she said, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Which one's Ben?" Sierra slurred.

Junior raised his hand slightly. Sierra couldn't help but notice that he had very pretty eyes; they were a shocking blue against his coffee coloured skin. He was taller than Jumbo, but still quite a lot skinnier. She narrowed her eyes and said, "Well, just remember that if you touch me, you'll be dead before you can say 'rude,'" before she flounced out of the room.


	8. Chapter Seven: In Transit

**A/N: So I have a couple of reviews now! Thank you so much for that! I know that OC's aren't everyone's cuppa tea, and thanks for taking the time out to read this :D **

Caitlin woke up first the next day. As soon as she met consciousness, she leapt out of bed and started digging through her bag. It didn't take her long to find it: a small grey device that looked a lot like a calculator, except with letters in the place of the numbers.

Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she typed, "Two healthy males – 14269, 15560." The numbers were hers and Sierra's identifications. Caitlin pressed SEND where the equals sign should have been and then jammed the calculator into her pocket.

Sierra was in a better mood with everyone except Jumbo. It must've been the lack of sleep that had made her so grouchy with him the night before. When she padded into the kitchen, dressed in a shirt that showed off her belly button but not her back and short shorts (not something that she would have worn earlier in her life but hey, Australia was darn hot), everyone looked up and stared at her. Maybe it was because back in the day she would have been sunburned pretty much as soon as she walked outside, but she'd already smeared some alien sunblock all over her large amount of exposed skin.

"Where are you going to keep your weapons?" Caitlin asked finally.

Sierra half turned from where she'd been making a cup of sugary tea. "Already sorted," she told her friend, pulling up the back of her shirt. There was an elastic strap around her middle that secured four knives to her back.

After taking a sip of her own drink, Caitlin said, "Your gun?" while keeping her eyes on Sierra; determinedly avoiding anyone else's gaze.

At this, Sierra spun around fully and grinned. "Are you familiar with _Roald Dahl's Revolting Rhymes_?"

"Slightly."

"Well," the girl began, fighting another smile. "In the one about Red Riding Hood, I believe there is a particular line that goes as follows: "The small girl smiles, one eyelid flickers. She draws a pistol from her -"

"Eurgh!" Caitlin threw up her hands. "You did not!"

Sierra burst into hysterical fits of mirth, doubling over with laughter. The others started to grin just as she stood up, closing off her expression completely. "No, I didn't. But that was hilarious. Luckily I didn't put on makeup before breakfast."

"I contacted the safehouse this morning," Caitlin said.

_But Jumbo and Junior have hardly been with us twelve hours!_ Sierra thought, choking on her tea. Not that she minded; Jumbo was nasty. But they hadn't gotten rid of Justin straight away! Caitlin must've been really into him from the start. "Have they said anything back?"

"Not yet. But I want you all to pack your stuff because they'll give us an address and if it's far away we'll have to leave ASAP." Caitlin froze. "That'll be them now," she said, pulling a little calculator from her pocket.

Sierra leapt forwards to block the screen from the other's view. The address was somewhere in Adelaide. She groaned. "Weren't we _just_ in South Australia?"

"No," snorted Caitlin.

The car ride was the longest that Ryan had ever known. With Sierra and the big guy, Charlie, in the front seat, of course it was going to seem like forever. She was the second best driver (Caitlin was in charge of the contacting device) and he was simply too large for the back seat. The two bickered over every possible topic in the known universe for the entire thirteen hours it took to get there. They only stopped a couple of times, just to get energy drinks for Sierra who insisted that she was fine to drive the whole time.

After a while, Sierra turned on the stereo, probably to drown out the conversation that she was having. Ryan didn't have a problem with her music; he'd been a big fan of classic rock before the aliens came so this wasn't much of a change for him. Unlike him, Charlie did seem to mind, a lot.

"What the hell is this?" he said in disgust.

In a tone of forced calm, Sierra replied, "This song is called 'Go to hell for heaven's sake.'"

"It's a song?!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," Charlie began, like he was talking to a two year old. "If this is what you call music -"

"What do you like then? Country?"

"Not this trash."

"Did you just hear that?" Sierra cocked her ear towards the speaker. "The title is so appropriate."

"SiSi," Caitlin warned. Sierra's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

"What kind of songwriter repeats the title over and over?" Charlie sounded disgusted.

"Most," Ben muttered.

"It's a fantastic song, Jumbo, you just have no appreciation for -"

"What, screeching?" Ryan wasn't sure if Charlie's face was red because of the Jumbo thing or the fact that his own friend had said something in _Sierra's_ defence.

Suddenly, Sierra slammed her foot down on the brakes. Everyone was thrown forwards while a snake crossed the road. "Justin likes this song, too, don't you, Justin?" she growled.

Ryan gulped, not bothering to correct her on his name. "Not this one specifically. But their other stuff is pretty good."

She sped off again, with an expression on her face that clearly spelled _don't mess with me_.

"See, even he doesn't like it!" Charlie continued, unfazed by Sierra's furious expression. "Can't you just change it? Please?"

"No."

"Charlie," Ben said, in the same tone that Caitlin had used earlier.

"Can we have dumplings for dinner?" Ryan asked loudly.

Caitlin smirked. "Sure."

The _place_ was a completely normal, suburban house on the outskirts of the South Australian capital. Caitlin kept getting asked if she was _sure _this was the address, which annoyed her somewhat. Of course she was sure. She'd checked the calculator more times than she could count.

In the oncoming darkness, while the boys stayed in the car, she and Sierra searched the four bedroom house thoroughly for cameras, bugs and aliens. It was a standard procedure that had been drilled into their heads during morning theory. The message on the calculator had stated that the other soldier, or soldiers, would not be there until morning, so the group decided to make themselves at home. They would have to stay a long time anyway.

The place was fully furnished, in a modern style. There were clothes to fit anyone in the bedroom closets and fresh food in the cupboards. Humans on the inside (some chose to become full alien spies; working out a way to get souls out of people. Caitlin was pretty sure that they had figured it out, but that wasn't her business) frequently fixed places like these, and probably used them for their own jobs too.

While she cooked the dumplings, as promised, Caitlin listened to the others as they argued over bedrooms, barged around the halls looking for things and (in Ben and Charlie's case) discussed what they thought the safehouse would be like. Being in a real house felt strange. Not since before her seven months at the safehouse had she been in one. Caitlin felt like a mother looking after her four children. _No,_ she chided herself. _You're the second youngest person here_.

That night, everybody got to have their own rooms, aside from Ryan and Caitlin, which didn't bother either of them. Again, they were in a twin bedroom, but since the rooms were so huge they put the beds closer together so that they could hold hands. Caitlin found that by doing this, they both slept much better. Their room was strange in the way that it took the longest amount of time to get to, yet the window faced the same way as the front door. That was the reason why Caitlin woke up first when the doorbell rang early the next morning. She shoved on a thin jacket over her nightgown and then jammed weapons into its pockets – just in case. She almost forgot to put her contacts in. When she opened the door, Caitlin sucked in a gasp.

"You shouldn't have come here," she said.


	9. Chapter Eight: Unwanted Advice

Hot sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, burning Sierra's exposed arm, therefore bothering her enough to wake her. Before the sun ruined it all, her sleep had been the best that she had had in a very long time. Never had she had a king sized bed all to herself before; she could definitely get used to the luxury of tossing about without falling onto the floor. The clock on her bedside table read 11:30. Sierra didn't bother hoping that Jumbo and Junior had already left: the regulation was to stay in the transit house for about a week to keep up neighbourly appearances.

She could smell pancakes and her stomach growled painfully. However, she could also hear the dishwasher running so she must have missed breakfast. By the time she had showered and made use of all the extra beauty products and appliances in the bathroom: hair straighteners, sparkling makeup (hey why not have a break from emo eyes once in a while?) and a bunch of hair and body moisturisers that smelled excellent, it was half past twelve. Just before she went out, she put her black contacts in, remembering that there were literally souls all around them.

"Just in time for lunch!" Caitlin said when she opened the door to the living area. Her friend was blocking Sierra's view of the others. "Let me remind you that we have neighbours," she continued in a low voice. "Are you wearing – no you're not, thank God." She raised her voice again. "Ryan, lay out a place for Sierra, would you?"

Sierra followed Caitlin to the dining room in confusion. Jumbo and Junior were already seated, digging into what looked like fried rice. Justin was also there, putting another set of cutlery out next to the soldier that had come to pick the boys up. At the same time as when Caitlin said "Not _there_, Ryan," Sierra realised with a jolt that the soldier was Max, her ex-on-off-boyfriend from the safehouse.

No wonder Caitlin was acting weird – she hated him.

Sierra felt her face harden into an indifferent mask. "It's alright, Justin."

Jumbo looked up and sneered at her. "Took your time."

Since Sierra was busy taking her seat, she didn't bother answering. Her mind was completely occupied with the task of trying _very hard_ not to notice or acknowledge the boy sitting next to her; consequentially he began to consume her thoughts. _He smells the same_, she mused to herself vaguely. _Ew, that's weird. _

"So, Max," Caitlin said in a high voice. How's the safehouse been?"

He looked up, surprised at being spoken to. For five hours he had slouched in the living room in silence. Caitlin had been furious when she'd opened the door to see Max standing outside and had sternly informed him that he should not say a thing to, around or about Sierra while he stayed in the transit house. So far, that hadn't been an issue. The men he was expected to bring to safety kept to themselves and of course Caitlin made sure her male model boyfriend didn't get too close. Now, in spite of Sierra's nearness, he felt like he could have had a better time sitting next to a mute. Or a statue.

"The safehouse?" Caitlin prompted, raising her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. They never used to be like that.

"Same as ever," Max said to the pile of carrots in the corner of his plate. He was allergic, and he was also quite sure that Caitlin knew that.

"Why don't you explain to Ben and Charlie what you mean by 'same as ever', Max?"

He lifted his head and looked the big one in the eye. "Intense. We have to work or train all day for six days a week. I'm always either out taking people in or showing them around or taking them back out, but I still don't know exactly where the place is. Nobody does, and the guy who built it died."

"How is that possible?" the skinny one – Ben – asked.

"When we take people in and out," Max began. "It's like pass the parcel. We get drugged half the time and get taken different places and given a recording of what direction to take. Kind of complicated. You'll understand if you train to have a job like mine."

"What's more dangerous, your job or Caitlin and Sierra's?"

"I don't know," he said. At the same time, Sierra said, "Ours, duh," and Caitlin said, "They're about equal."

Amused, Max tilted his head down and to the side to share a smirk with Sierra, the way they often used to, but she was already getting up to take away her half finished plate of food. He half stood as well, on instinct, ignoring Caitlin's narrowed eyes.

"Put your stuff in the master bedroom," Sierra said in a voice that was only loud enough for Max to hear. He felt a flutter of hope and sat back down while she stalked out of the room.

"_What did you say to him_?"

Of course Caitlin had followed her out. She should have known that someone would try to have a feelings talk with her sooner or later. Sierra let out a huffy sigh and reluctantly turned away from the refrigerator.

"I said that I was not pleased to see him," she lied dully.

Caitlin glanced at the boys at the table and spoke in a quieter voice. "Then why did he look pleased when he sat down?"

"Don't ask me." Sierra turned away and headed towards the hall. Caitlin followed her, shutting the door behind them and blocking the path to her friend's room.

"I know we're stuck here together for a week, but I don't want him messing with you at all, okay?"

Sierra folded her arms and glared. "He doesn't mess with me."

"He's changed you," Caitlin said frankly. "Before you met him, you never wore makeup –"

"Like you can talk –"

"- never wore crop tops or anything like that, didn't flirt with half the boys you saw just to piss him off –"

"So he has changed me. I don't care. People change people. Does that mean he's been _messing with me_?"

Caitlin took a deep breath. "You do know he used to –"

"Cheat on me? I know. I cheated, too."

"You did?" Caitlin's eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah man. Don't you start thinking I moped around in self pity."

"You should have told me. I could have helped you – stopped you from sleeping around –"

Now it was Sierra's turn to look incredulous. "I didn't sleep around. I just made out with a few people. Sleeping around is Max's thing. You know I'm not one to follow trends."

"Stop acting like this is a joke, SiSi." Caitlin laid a hand on Sierra's arm gently. "You know that you can talk to me."

Sierra wormed away from her friend's touch. "I don't need help. Max and I were never that serious, and I am perfectly entitled to do whatever I want as long as everybody involved is comfortable with the situation."

"Are you comfortable with the situation?"

"_Yes_," said Sierra, growing more and more irritated. "Apparently you're not, though. But it's none of your business. If it bothers you this much, leave me alone. Because I like Max and I will be spending time with him this week."

Caitlin stepped back, stung. "I'm just trying to help you."

Sierra swallowed her guilt. "I don't need your help, or anyone else's. Leave me alone."

This time, Caitlin did not follow her when she walked away.


	10. Chapter Nine: Shutting Them Out

He stood in the doorframe for a long time before he actually went in. Sierra was sitting cross-legged on the bed with her back to him, shoulders hunched over some drawing. Her hair, for once, was untangled and straight, hanging halfway down her back in an unbroken curtain. It was shorter than when he'd last seen it; still sort of long but the ends didn't look all gross anymore. How she could have sat through a whole hairdressing session with the enemy breathing down her falsely scarred neck, he did not know.

At lunch, when she had first laid eyes on him, her expression had changed in a matter of seconds from surprise to anger to hurt to what he could only describe as _yearning_ before she settled her features into a perfect poker face. It was as if she'd managed to stop herself from caring in that short period of time. This made him feel... he didn't even know what he felt about that. An angry or hurt or yearning Sierra was something he could handle, but a Sierra that didn't care was new and unmanageable.

Max moved forwards so that he was able to see what she was drawing. It was weird, as usual, of an old woman clutching at her neck, with horrible monstrous _things_ oozing between her fingers. He only got to see it for a second before Sierra snapped her sketchbook shut, yanked her earphones out and turned to glare up at him from behind un-smudged, glittery eye shadow.

"You could knock, you know," she said in a voice that was completely lacking any warmth.

Without answering, he sat across from her. Visibly, the muscles in her neck tensed.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"You said to put my stuff in the -"

"Because I wanted to know why it was _you _to come pick up Jumbo and Junior." She was no longer looking right into his eyes; but he could almost feel her gaze burning a hole in his collar. "Instead of someone else."

Astonished, he stumbled over his short answer. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You tell me."

"SiSi." She flinched at the use of the nickname that he'd started. "You're here is why. I missed you."

"How many girls have you slept with since I left, Max?"

Her words stabbed him, but he swallowed the bile in his throat. "Does it matter?"

"No. But I want to know."

"You don't need to."

She huffed out an annoyed sigh and looked away.

"I tried to become a soldier like you again," Max said.

"Do you have your results?" Her voice was the way it had been earlier: lacking any kind of emotion.

"Yeah. I'm still too _volatile._"

"Of course you are."

"You're no saint yourself!" he said angrily.

"Better than you, obviously."

Part of him wanted to punch her. He had never hit a girl but sometimes Sierra's attitude reminded him of every guy that had pissed him off. They had always been beaten to a pulp, and she annoyed him more than they did. _Maybe walking away would be better..._ he thought, but somehow he was already kissing her, as usual.

Back in the living room, Ryan was spinning on a breakfast bar stool between the kitchen and the lounge. On one side of him, Caitlin was seething away, and on the other Charlie and Ryan were delightedly rifling through a huge DVD collection that people from the safehouse had rescued. The four of them had decided to watch a decent horror film and the boys were now deciding which one was the best. Caitlin seemed to be angry because the soldier, Max, had immediately volunteered to warn Sierra about what they were watching (because apparently she didn't like them or something) and had dashed out of the room before Caitlin had even opened her mouth to protest.

"Unbelievable," Caitlin said now.

It seemed that she was talking to Ryan. He kicked out his foot to stop the stool from spinning. "Does he... have a thing for her?"

"I don't know," she spat. Ryan couldn't help but marvel at how she was still beautiful with a face contorted with fury. He forced himself to listen while she briefly explained Sierra's relationship with Max. Really, what Caitlin needed to do was wear monster makeup or something to actually look normal and _not have a face that was so distracting_. He decided not to express this thought aloud. "... and she says she can handle it," Caitlin finished, giving Ryan a helpless look.

"Maybe she can," he said. "She seems pretty tough to me."

"You've never shared a room with her," she answered darkly.

"What do you mean?"

"She gets nightmares. More since we've left the safehouse." Caitlin looked over Ryan's shoulder at Ben. "Was Sierra alright the other night?" she called.

Ben, who was holding several DVD cases in each hand, looked up. "Huh?"

"When she was asleep," Caitlin prompted.

Colour rose in the boy's cheeks but he spoke calmly. "Well, she didn't move or talk or anything..."

"Yes, but did you look at her face?"

"Uh, was I supposed to?"

Rolling her eyes, Caitlin turned back to Ryan. "Well, she has nightmares. Trust me."

"Don't we all?" Caitlin's eyes flashed and he continued with haste. "What does having nightmares have anything to do with it, though?"

"He messes with her head!"

"Look, I wouldn't worry about it. You're overreacting."

He'd said too much. Caitlin glared at him and turned away. "You're as bad as her. And she and I aren't talking."

Ryan slid off his seat and walked around the kitchen bench. Hesitating for only a moment, he wrapped his arms around Caitlin, letting her share his calmness and press her face into his broad chest. They stood this way for a moment, an unbreakable being, before Charlie interrupted with a highly important question. "Saw, Psycho or Paranormal Activity?"

Immediately, Ryan and Caitlin let go of each other, but she smiled at him to show that she wasn't mad. Relieved, he moved to join Ben and Charlie. "Psycho," he said. "Vintage is classy and Hitchcock's a genius."

After two decent horror films, Caitlin's anger had ebbed somewhat. She detangled herself from Ryan's arm and headed back to the kitchen.

"Aw, Caitie, don't cook something. We can have freezer food." The use of her nickname coming from Ryan's mouth seemed odd, but she liked it.

Charlie, who had scored the best seat, stretched and spoke through a yawn. "You know what I feel like? Hot chips."

"I can do that," she said, pleased that they were asking for easy food.

"Did somebody say hot chips?"

Sierra had just entered the room, with Max trailing behind her. The circus makeup was gone and her hair was curling slightly. Max's cheeks were slightly red – the same colour that was starting to border Caitlin's vision. She forced herself to speak. "Yes. We're having them for dinner."

Sierra's expression was even more vacant than ever. "Spiffing," she said coldly.


	11. Chapter Ten: The House House

The week dragged on and on. Caitlin felt that they should've left the house a month ago, but by then it was only day six. Having Max around was torture. Caitlin was sure that she would have preferred Sierra with any other guy – even Ryan would be fine. Just not a man like Max. At the safehouse, before she had become so absent, Sierra had confided with Caitlin that Max was "just misunderstood. He had a hard childhood, you know. But he's kind. Just give him a chance." Ryan, who was usually so mild, had had a standoff with the soldier on the fourth day. Never had Caitlin seen Ryan acting anything worse than nervous. He'd been having a go at Max because of his attitude or something. Cockiness and Ryan didn't mix, apparently. What was worse was that when she, Caitlin, had tried to stop the low but menacing discussion (loud noises meant attention from the neighbours and none of them were stupid enough to get the others killed), Ryan had been the only one to notice. But when Sierra interfered, _poor Max_ had backed away.

For the last three days, Caitlin and Ryan decided to entertain Ben and Charlie as best they could. After all, it was dreadfully boring in the safehouse, unless you were a soldier or a nerd. One day they went to the movies (the film was terrible), the next they went to the park and the last day they stayed in and watched more gory horror films. Charlie had been all for viewing something that depicted three very curvy and very lightly dressed girls on the cover, but Caitlin had given him a firm _no._ Ben had looked relieved.

That was their last night, so Sierra and Max were definitely staying in their room. And the next morning, Caitlin was very pleased to see Max go.

After they had waved the truck away, Caitlin managed to entice Sierra out of her room to make cookies.

"I've never had your cookies before," Sierra said now. She had hardly helped at all: the whole time she had been eating scraps of dough.

"They're the best," Caitlin informed her. She looked sideways at Sierra thoughtfully.

"What?"

"What have you been doing all week?"

Sierra shrugged. "Knitting," she said, carefully licking the dough off her fingers.

"Knitting," repeated Caitlin in disbelief. "Why would you be knitting? It's still summer."

"That was sarcasm."

"I realise that." Caitlin frowned. "Do I want to know?"

"I dunno, do you?"

Over the next four months, exactly seven people passed through the capable hands of Sierra, Ryan and Caitlin. None of them, thankfully, were as annoying as Jumbo had been, though most of them were too hollow to really have much personality left in them. Max came back five times to pick the survivors up, but Caitlin and Sierra didn't row any more, not since Max had turned around and said in a blunt voice, "Just give it up, Caitlin. I like Sierra a lot and she likes me. We're probably only gonna be separated by proper love or proper death."

Every fortnight, Ryan somehow managed to pull out a gift for Caitlin. They were all very different; one time he had brought back a board game from the shops, another time a pair of diamond earrings. He seemed to enjoy making use of his soul disguise. If they were to pass a nice house, he would nudge her quietly and whisper, "If we could stay here, we'd live in that one." Sometimes he would good-naturedly ramble on about how odd it was that souls could buy _anything_, yet they were happy with their boring little houses.

"Yep, that's strange alright," Caitlin would speak the same words as Sierra at the same time.

One day, they passed a huge mansion in the middle of nowhere.

"Wait, go back," Ryan said immediately to Sierra, who was driving. She rolled her eyes and reversed on the highway, parking up beside the gate. "Did you see that?" Ryan continued.

"See what?"

"There was a figure in the window." He got out of the car, contacts already in.

"Yes, I'd be guessing people live there," Caitlin said sarcastically.

Sierra got out of the car, too. "But there are no cars there. How could there be... unless..."

Caitlin was doubtful. "Is there a garage?"

"No."

Five minutes later, they were at the door of the house, eye contacts taken out. They didn't even hesitate now before walking inside; having done this so many times all three of them were used to this sort of situation. Ryan and Sierra were adamant that there were humans inside that house, but they all carried about six weapons each, just in case it was a trap. It was May by then, and Sierra was the only one who was sweating, as they were back up to the north of Australia, this time to the west. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. To pick up her self esteem, she stepped back and kicked it down in one try. The wood was rotting and it was actually pretty easy, but she chose not to mention that.

"Hello?" she called.

Caitlin and Ryan followed her into the foyer. Inside, it was dark and worn out, like a haunted house, only it was still reasonably warm. There was an unstable looking staircase on their right, under a droopy chandelier. Straight ahead was a door, and on their left was an open planned living area. More doors were visible from beyond the moth-eaten sofas.

"It's bigger than I thought," Ryan whispered.

"Let's split up," Sierra agreed.

Caitlin swallowed. "If you're sure."

Ryan kissed her cheek and headed up the staircase. With a wink, Sierra turned towards the lounge. "Call me if you need me." Caitlin nodded.

Although she felt that she didn't really need to, Sierra walked as silently as possible through the left wing of the house. There were no people, but there were signs of recent activity: imprints in the dirty floor, the smell of half rotten food, objects that weren't as dusty as the surfaces they were resting on. The bathroom stank of urine and vomit, and Sierra couldn't help but be reminded of a very drunk Max.

"Eurgh," she whispered when she opened a cupboard in the kitchen that revealed a healthy stock of dead cockroaches and spiders.

At that moment, she heard a yell, coming from where she had been before. "RYAN! SISI!"

Without hesitating, Sierra sprinted, pulling a knife and a gun out at the same time. "CAITIE! Where are you?!" she screamed back. She wasn't a very fast runner, and judging by the sound of heavy footfalls ahead of her, Ryan was already through Caitlin's door. Sierra pushed past an overturned table in the foyer and dashed towards the noise. There was an even darker corridor through the door, with locked doors on each side. She ran to the one at the end, the only one that was open. There was a concrete set of stairs through it that she nearly toppled down because she was moving more quickly than she was used to.

She skidded to a halt at the foot of the stairs at the sight that greeted her. The stairs had led to a sort of basement, and Caitlin was kneeling next to an old man in a pool of the only source of light in the room, Ryan's torch.

"More Heal," she was saying.

Sierra moved forwards, confused, while Ryan rummaged in Caitlin's pack for medicine. The old man's leg was outstretched at an odd angle, but it was edging back to a normal position.

"Broke it just now," he wheezed. "Running away from ya."

_Dinky di Aussie mate_, Sierra thought.At least Ryan and Caitlin didn't have annoying accents.

"Are there others?" asked Caitlin urgently.

The man tilted his head back lazily and pointed to the shadows.

"SiSi," ordered Caitlin.

Obediently, Sierra pulled out her own torch and shone it in the right direction. There was a door set in the stone that she rushed to immediately. "Open up," she called through the wood, trying and failing to turn the handle.

She thought she heard a short cry, but it was cut off quickly. "Stand back," she sighed, and kicked it down again. The yellow light from her torch revealed two... no, three, or was it two and a half? people huddled together in the corner of a tiny room.

The tallest figure moved towards her and analysed Sierra's face with clear brown eyes. He looked like he was about thirty; the only lines on his face were around his eyes and between his brows.

"Human," he said, to whom, Sierra did not quite know. "What did you do to my father?"

"Oh, we ate him," she said sarcastically.

"Sierra!" Ryan chided, still standing over Caitlin and her patient.

"Who else is there?" Sierra asked in a kinder voice. "Step forwards so I can see you better."

In response, a small child moved closer, taking hold of the side of the man's trousers. On his other side, a girl of about Sierra's age or maybe older smiled up at her shyly from behind a mane of chestnut coloured hair.

A grin crept across Sierra's own face while she twisted around to call to Caitlin and Ryan. "We're going to need another car."


	12. Chapter Eleven: Interviews

**A/N: Sorry! Short (ish) chapter. The last one was long. The next one is also short and yeah you might want to prepare yourself. Spoilers... ;) enjoy folks.**

After two hours of squished, uncomfortable driving, they managed to score a decent sized unit for the seven of them. While Caitlin and Sierra headed to the nearest car shop (it wasn't too hard: they were in Broome, a large enough city) while Ryan was left to deal with the newcomers. Never had they been outnumbered by survivors – it wasn't an issue, but it did feel weird. While they took turns using the shower, Ryan double checked that they were healthy before he sent off their details in Caitlin's calculator.

While they waited together, he learned about how the old man, Gerard, his son Elliot and the little girl, Abbie had escaped a Christmas party gone wrong with souls and had met up with Celine, the young woman who had come from Sierra's country for a holiday. She wasn't as enthusiastic about the safehouse as the others, though maybe it was just shyness. When Ryan explained the basics of the safehouse to her, she frowned and simply muttered, "Okay..."

Elliot took her hand in a paternal way. "You were like this about the mansion, too, Celine. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Yeah, but they just found us there."

Before the discussion could get out of hand (not that he was positive that it would, it was merely a precaution), Ryan interrupted. "We knew what we were looking for."

Something in that comment sparked something in Elliot's eyes. "Would you happen to have tapes for a video camera?"

"Pardon?"

"I'll be right back." Elliot hurried out of the room for a few moments before he returned with a small, zip-up canvas bag. "For this sort of camera..?

Ryan held out his hand and Elliot passed him the silver video recorder. "What do you have one of these for?"

"I've been recording what happens to us. So, if did get... you know... they could watch the video and maybe... regret it."

"Learn from it," Celine added quietly, while hoisting Abbie, who had just entered the room, up into her lap.

Carefully, Ryan pulled out the little cassette. "I'll get Caitie to pick some up on her way back," he said.

"Why do you do what you do?"

Caitlin stared directly into the camera. Her skin was so dark that she didn't have to worry if she blushed. "To save lives." Sierra shrugged and said, "It's the right thing to do." Ryan pushed his hair back. "Why shouldn't we?"

Elliot decided to interview everybody one by one while they waited to hear back from the safehouse. Before the invasion he had been an amateur documentary maker and he didn't want to give up on his dream just because of one little apocalypse.

"What did you do for the rest of your life before this happened? And why?"

Caitlin's voice was certain. "I wanted to be a chef. To let people eat properly, I suppose. And when I got better I wanted to travel to the poorer countries and cook for people there, for free."

"I don't know," Sierra said. "A teacher, maybe. For art. So that young people can learn to express themselves."

Ryan wasn't sure. "Something life changing. I wanted to make the world better, without having to kill anyone." He frowned at the camera pointedly.

"Interior design," said Celine. "Or law. Because I would have been fighting for human rights. And... I like furniture." She laughed. "That sounds so lame. Like... you know how people go into clothes stores and are like, oh my god look at all these nice clothes, I want everything! And they, like, get a rush? That's how I feel in nice furniture stores. And I would rearrange it in my head, to make it look nicer."

Little Abbie said, "A singer!"

"Why did ya ask me?" Gerard sighed. "I've lived my life. They would have taken my body and disposed of it, no doubt."

The next question was even more personal. "How do you feel now that you can't do that anymore?"

Caitlin: "Sad."

Sierra: "Disappointed. The young people will always be like each other now, the same, because there's no changing death."

Ryan: "Defeated, because they were trying to change the world, too, but they're doing it wrong. It's not okay."

Celine: "Well, obviously I should still be aiming to be something like a lawyer, considering that human rights are worse than ever."

Abbie was not asked that particular question and neither was Gerard.

"What do you think you're going to do with your life now?"

"Keep doing this, for as long as possible. Ryan and Sierra are my favourite people in the entire world and if I could stay with them forever, I'll be as happy as one could be in... times like this." Caitlin's eyebrows drew together.

"Live in the most careful, but non-careful way as I can," Sierra answered. "That didn't make sense, did it? I am so sorry."

"I want to... keep saving people. That makes me happy. And maybe... marry Caitlin one day..." Ryan's face went bright red. "Don't tell her I said that."

"Train at the safehouse, I suppose. Learn to bear Australian accents." Celine grinned the way she only did around Elliot, and probably around the friends who were probably now dead.

"Singer!" Abbie crowed. "Like Seen!"

Gerard only shrugged.

They heard back from the safehouse at dinner time. Caitlin's cardigan pocket buzzed loudly and she jumped, nearly spilling her soup all down her front. Sierra took it immediately, as Caitlin's mouth was filled with food. "It's an address in Mandurah."

Nearly everybody asked where that was. Gerard said, "It's south of Perth," at the same time as when Sierra said, "It's where all the rich ponces live."

"How do you know that?" Ryan asked her.

She shrugged. "I've been around. Everyone, when you've finished eating, pack for the morning. This is a two day trip."


	13. Chapter Twelve: It All Turns to Custard

**A/N: Part of the scenery in this chapter was made up by me. Also there will be coarse language. And, uh, sorry.**

While they had been out, Caitlin and Sierra had acquired a pair of walkie-talkies so that while they were split up in their own cars they could still communicate with each other. Caitlin had the new car with Ryan and Gerard but Sierra was the one to take the calculator because she had a sub standard memory.

When they got out on the flat desert highway, Caitlin was in the front.

"Celine," said Sierra innocently. "Could you please go through my playlists and hit 'Motivating' and then 'Car Chase'?"

While Celine did this from the passenger seat, Caitlin's voice issued from the speaker overhead. "You're joking. I'm way better at driving than you."

"Is that a threat?"

"It could well be."

After briefly checking that there were no other cars on the road, Sierra put her foot down. Abbie squealed in delight. It was true that Caitlin was a better driver than Sierra, but the latter had the advantage of a familiar car. After a reasonable effort, involving many swerves and lots of laughter, Sierra was in the lead. She hardly had time to whoop before Ryan's voice told her to slow down because there was another car approaching.

"Yes, Mum," sighed Sierra.

The other car was getting closer.

"That's weird," Caitlin's muttered, barely audible in the first car. "We're at the speed limit ourselves, right?"

"But they're not..."

Elliot switched on his video camera. "I'd be guessing it's Seekers, personally."

"That's fine," Sierra's voice was unfazed. "Put those contacts in that I gave you."

"Ryan, give Gerard some too," Caitlin said in a hard voice.

Ryan obeyed, but Gerard didn't put them in. The car was getting closer. It was easy to see two more of the distinctive mirrored vehicles behind it. Ahead, a sign said, 'Cliffs approaching. Drive carefully.'

"Gerard, come on."

"There's no point," he answered calmly. "I'm too old to be a soul. And I don't have a scar on my neck."

Sierra must have heard as well, because Caitlin's ears were suddenly filled with every swear word that came to mind, and more. Behind them, another voice was coming through a megaphone on top of the front Seeker car.

"_Please stop and exit your vehicle."_

"Put your foot down!" Caitlin yelled, while doing so herself. Sierra's car sped ahead in response.

"Haven't done this in a while," Sierra commented while their two cars edged away from the gang of Seekers. What sounded like _Eye of the Tiger_ crackled through the speaker alongside her voice.

"Be careful at the cliffs," Caitlin replied, noticing that her friend was getting to the danger zone of the road.

"Yessir."

The danger area had cliffs on their right and a deadly drop to the left. Caitlin had hoped that the aliens would chicken out at this point, but Gerard (who was looking straight out the back window) reported otherwise.

"Their cars are a lot more powerful than this," he added darkly.

"Yeah?" Caitlin spoke through her teeth. "Well, I'm a better driver."

"Not gonna be much help if you run out of petrol, darl."

Ryan checked the screen that showed the amount of kilometres that they had left at the rate they were at, and then swore loudly.

"What? What?" Sierra returned through the walkie-talkie, her tone frantic.

"We have twenty kays left," he said. Caitlin's stomach dropped. Ryan continued saying what they all knew already. "That's seven minutes of driving at this rate. If we slow down, we'll be caught. If we keep going, we'll break down and be caught."

"Shoot them all," Sierra yelled, like they couldn't already hear her. "I'll help."

"No!" Caitlin protested. "Don't you dare turn around, Sierra Margaret Maple."

"What other choice do I have?"

"Keep going, and let me handle it." To her relief, Caitlin's tone did not waver, though she could almost literally feel her heart tearing itself to pieces. "I'm sorry, Ryan."

Ryan stared at her, but he realised what she was planning before Sierra did. He turned to face Gerard. "We have six minutes left."

"Do what you need to," the old man sighed. It was impossible to tell whether he knew the enormity of what Caitlin was going to do, until he raised his voice and said, "Elliot, keep in mind that this will never, ever be your fault."

"NO!" The screams issuing through the communicator were almost loud enough to leave one's ears ringing. Everyone in the other car could be heard: Celine's constant gasping, Abbie's wailing, Elliot's words of attempted comfort and Sierra's answer. "Let's try the shooting thing! Don't be an idiot-"

"I'm not being an idiot. You and I both remember lesson twenty nine of driver's training." Caitlin could feel the tears cascading down her cheeks, but she was still speeding along so there was no point in bothering to wipe them away.

"FUCK LESSON TWENTY NINE! IT WAS BULL SHIT ANYWAY, THERE'S NO WAY I'M LEAVING YOU BEHIND!"

"Yes there is, Sierra!" Caitlin wailed. "Coming back means death for all of us, and then the potential betrayal of everyone at the safehouse. You're going to get to the transit house, whether you like it or not. And don't start blaming yourself: I've made my decision."

"But I'll be all alone," Sierra's whimper was more cutting than her screams of defiance.

"Three minutes," Ryan said quietly. Gerard leaned back luxuriously.

"Bye bye, SiSi," Caitlin murmured. "Let me do this before I chicken out."

She slowed down slightly, so that the Seeker's cars could catch up a bit more. Taking comfort in Ryan's whispered words of affection and love and marriage in heaven, Caitlin jerked the steering wheel as far to the right as possible, with all her strength.

One second was all it took. Ryan pulled himself into her lap and kissed her with a thousand tears*, and then the head Seeker smashed into the driver's seat side of their brand new car. There was a terrible cracking sound, but Caitlin kept hold of Ryan's life-like body in her arms while her foot shuffled to the reverse pedal. A collision with that much force had to work both ways and hopefully the Seeker's car would be too damaged to go on. Maybe the others would stop and help their leader out.

Billions of thoughts could have passed through Caitlin's head in this moment. Something along the lines of _shame on the souls, I'm sorry Sierra, _or anything to do with her dead boyfriend that lay in her arms was likely...

But as the car plummeted into the abyss below, all she could think was _Thank God I'm such a good driver._

**A/N: I said I was sorry! I really am. Please don't hate me. I sort of hate me. There will be more story. ****Tell me if you want a happy ending for Sierra... that won't come for a while but lemme know. ****And, yes, the scene was very similar to that part in the movie but I did not realise that until after I had written it and if it bothers you then I am sorry about that.**

**But still I feel bad.**

**I'm really sorry.**

**Yes I did like Caitlin and Ryan but hey... **

***Quoted from a Nick Cave song, "Do you love me?"**


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Breaking

**A/N: Dear Readers, please let me know if you would like a happy ending for Sierra. And gimme ideas on anything in particular that you would like to see happen! :)**

Sierra continued driving until the fuel gage said empty, when she stopped the car without pulling over and refilled the petrol quickly. She drove well into the night while the others fell asleep after a decent amount of crying. What she really wanted was to never stop driving, because she had a terrible fear of what her dreams were to hold. However, she had to be careful for her passengers, so when her own eyelids started drooping she plunged the car into the flat desert – so unlike the cliffs – and hid under a blackened tree. She covered the windows and put the air conditioner on for the morning. There was no need for this precaution, because she woke two hours before dawn after a horrific nightmare.

Eventually, after almost non-stop driving, they reached the transit house in Mandurah. It was large, grand and modern, sitting on the edge of a canal. When Sierra got out of the car alone to check the place, she almost – _almost _– turned to comment on the flashiness of the house to a Ryan that wasn't there.

After the place was confirmed to be fine, Sierra raced upstairs to lock herself in the master bedroom. Elliot and the others had to grieve for Gerard alone. And she'd seen the looks on their faces when they thought she wasn't checking. They blamed her for what happened at the cliffs.

_Why shouldn't they?_ Sierra unlocked her joints from the statue-like position she'd been holding in the middle of the bedroom. _The car chase was your idea._

She barged into the bathroom and glared at her reflection. Though her contacts were out, her eyes looked black, even blacker than the shadows underneath them. Disgusted, she swung her fist at the mirror, which shattered instantly. Before she could stop it, an image formed in her head of Caitlin's car crumbling to pieces in the same way when it hit the ground.

Though she had not eaten in a day at least, she threw up, bending so the stuff would get in the basin. In her delirious state, she smacked her face against the sink and collapsed onto the cold tiles.

Grief had already started to cut lines on Elliot's face. He had recorded the whole thing and was now locked in the office of this mansion, editing the footage. Celine was left to look after an unnaturally quiet Abbie. Somebody had left a Nintendo Wii behind, so the two girls played an abysmally boring video game about harvest and plants, after Mario Kart had ended in tears.

Partway through a plot twist where they had to use teamwork to fix a broken sprinkler, Abbie fell asleep, technically leaving the whole house to Celine. She wandered to the kitchen and forced a salad down her throat. The sun was rising and by the colour of the sky she could see that it would be a hot day, in spite of the fact that it was May. A loud buzzing sound caused her to nearly jump out of her skin. It seemed to be coming from the little calculator-like device that Sierra must have dumped on the bench on her way through the house. Hesitantly, Celine picked it up and looked at the screen. It read: "10 MINUTES." Since she had a bit of an idea of what that meant, Celine carefully the realistic eye contacts in and waited.

Nine minutes and twenty seconds later, the doorbell rang. Butterflies formed in her stomach while she crossed the foyer and opened the door.

Across from her stood two men. One was very short and very ugly with a pig like nose and tiny eyes. The other was quite the opposite: tall, with dark blue eyes, dirty blonde hair and chiselled features. The ugly one smiled at her but the tall one looked suspicious. Neither of them had glowing eyes and Celine realised that they saw her as an alien. She awkwardly pulled one of the eye contacts out and asked, "Are you from the safehouse?"

The hot one didn't look any more relaxed. "Where's Sierra? Or Caitlin, I guess. I mean, why are you answering the door?"

Celine felt terribly uncomfortable. "Sierra's upstairs. And Caitlin's... dead."

The men had identical expressions of shock. The short one took off his cap and held it to his body with both hands as a sign of respect. Celine moved aside and let them pass; the tall one headed straight to the stairs. The short one closed the door behind him and asked quietly, "Are any others dead, too?"

She swallowed and looked sideways at the theatre room where Abbie slept soundly on the couch. "A boy called Ryan, and a man named Gerard."

By now, Max was very used to lingering in the doorway until Sierra let him in. It had happened each time he had come around to the transit houses. She would get angry if he went inside without permission, but this time he had to because she was unconscious and bleeding.

The bathroom smelled terrible and he held his breath while he picked her up and rested her in the bathroom seat. (_What kind of bathroom has a _seat_?!_) He quickly cleaned up the mess of broken glass, blood and vomit before assessing the girl that he could never seem to let go of. There were bits of glass in her hands and cheek which Max managed to take out with a pair of tweezers.

"_Ouch_!" Sierra's eyes snapped open when he got to her face. Max ignored her until he had removed the last shard.

"Do you want me to leave you so you can shower?" Never had he tried so hard to keep his voice gentle, but still she winced when he spoke.

"Get me a drink. I taste like vomit."

Max looked at her one more time quickly before leaving. Cuts and bruises covered Sierra's face and hands and she was acting more guarded than ever. It was not hard to tell how badly the death of her friends was affecting her.

When he returned, she was already Healed, clean and dressed. It was the way of the safehouse to be efficient with everything. Sierra took the tall glass of orange juice without comment and stood stiffly beside the French doors leading to the balcony.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Max had dashed to the bathroom and was pressing a Band-Aid to her face.

"You're still bleeding," he said. It was so obvious. "Where are you going?" Sierra had started to move quietly towards the door, and she looked back at him vacantly.

"I'm going kayaking. Don't follow me."

"Don't forget your-"

He could sense her irritation by the way she was clenching and unclenching her fists. "It's sunny, Max. Sunglasses will do."

"Max, come check this out."

Aaron had come with him to pick up the new people this time, because five people in one car was terribly uncomfortable. Now that there were only three new survivors, it seemed pointless to have brought an ally along, but that didn't matter now. Max had been leaning against the back deck's railing for the past ten minutes, watching Sierra setting up her little red boat and then paddling out with the vast sea at her back.

Now he turned to see what the others wanted. "The guy's recorded some amazing stuff," said Aaron in wonder.

A youngish man was slumped on the leather couch, staring at nothing, while Aaron leaned forward at the table, staring at the computer screen.

"I've been up since midnight editing it," the stranger croaked. He did indeed look exhausted.

"Max – he's got the crash."

"Would it be okay if we saw it?" Max asked, unable to fight his curiosity. A minute later he was pulled into a scene starring a brand new red car that was being filmed from out a back window. Considering the high speed that both cars were travelling at, the camera was quite steady. The cars were being tailed by Seekers. And then there was Sierra, red faced and screaming obscenities from the driver's seat, although she had no tears. When they turned a corner, there was an audio of the crash before the connection between the walkie-talkies cut off. Suddenly Sierra had no trace of emotion on her face as she wound through the highways. Sure, the camera was focussed on the actual crash (it was clear by the haunting commentary) but Max had seen enough of those. But Sierra was his girlfriend! Well, sort of. They'd parted last time on good terms and in the time between then and now Max hadn't even kissed a single other girl. He had been planning to use this in his next, now impossible, discussion with Caitlin and Ryan.

Abruptly he stood. "I'll be back in thirty, maybe."


End file.
